


City of Dreams

by terrasensqueen



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-21 21:22:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22903753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrasensqueen/pseuds/terrasensqueen
Summary: ❛—it’s a city of dreams . . . ❜ When twenty-year-old Clary Fray decides to join her best friends Simon and Isabelle at their college, she didn’t expect the drama to ensure. Meeting a sarcastic boy with inner demons and walls of dark humor wasn’t on her wish list. Neither was her interestingly contradicting roommate who’s a total enigma. Confusion and matchmaking on all sides, and nobody’s exactly sure what’s going on.
Relationships: Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Clary Fray/Maia Roberts, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood
Kudos: 9





	City of Dreams

CLARY STARED HELPLESSLY AT HER BEST FRIEND. “Please,” she started, but the words stuck in her throat. Clary’s grip on Isabelle’s slender hand tightened. “Please,” she tried again. “Isabelle, you promised you wouldn’t leave me here on the first day.”

She knew she sounded like a petulant child. Clary honestly didn’t care.

Isabelle sighed, the necklace at her throat gleaming in the light. The ruby pendant was refreshingly simple, compared to her usual gaudy, glittering jewelry pieces. “Clary . . . We’ve been friends because our moms were—are—friends,” she reached down to tuck an unruly lock of Clary’s russet hair behind her ear. Sometimes, Clary really hated how short she was. “And we are friends,” Isabelle added quickly. “But you need to meet more people. You have a horrible social life. You know that. You’re the one that decided to sign up for a randomized roommate.”

Clary smiled weakly. Although Isabelle’s words might have stung a few years prior, she had learned that Isabelle said whatever was on her mind. She moistened her lips. “Okay. I’m going to see Simon. Bye?”

Isabelle made a face. “I swear, you visit him more than Rebecca does.”

“Hey! He’s known me since I was two. We’re practically related.”

Isabelle laughed, a real laugh and not the tinkling giggle that sounded like bells she used in the presence of boys. “Now that would be weird. I have to go—bye!”

Clary watched the retreating form of Isabelle’s back. She turned to the pile of boxes littering the area outside her dorm room. A voice in the back of her head told her that she had promised Simon she would visit his dorm. The other voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Isabelle told her that she should get unpacked. Choosing to compromise, her fingers fumbled for the phone in her pocket.

The familiar yellow and white striped case was burned into Clary’s retinas. She tapped out the first few letters of Simon’s name, watching Simon’s name pop up. Distractedly, she clicked on it, watching the ring tone reverberate through the empty hallway. It was evening, meaning that pretty much everyone was at the cafeteria eating dinner.

Simon picked up on the third ring. “Hey,” he said. Clary could hear his smile in that single syllable. “What’s up?”

Clary twisted a lock of her hair. “Um . . . I know I was supposed to come over for movie night, but I need help unpacking. Can you come on over?”

Simon readily agreed. “Sure.” He paused, drawing suspense. “But we’re using your iPad for movie night.”

She laughed. Simon always knew what to say. “Make sure you don’t get distracted by Isabelle coming over. I think she’s going to get Alec.”

Alexander Lightwood was Isabelle’s older brother. Clary didn’t know him that well; Isabelle was the one that had immediately latched on to her, seeking female attention from someone her age. Gifted with the same dark hair as his sister, the only difference in their sharp features was the color of their eyes, Alec’s being bottle-glass blue and Isabelle’s being a dark, doe brown. Alec was two years older than Isabelle, placing him in his senior year.

For most of Clary’s life, she had gone to school with Simon, at St. Xaviers. When she had been in high school, she had applied to many colleges, one being the very same one she was in right now, the New York Institute. The other one had been the Brooklyn Academy of Art. She had been taking after school classes during her sophomore, junior, and senior year, but she had ended up using her first year out of high school to finish her graduating year. Thankfully, Simon—who was a lot smarter than given credit for—had tutored her on FaceTime and helped her with her online college courses, the only reason why she was in her sophomore year of college and not a freshman.

Clary looked back down the hallway. She could see Simon in the distance, unruly chocolate hair visible from yards away. “Simon!”

“Clary!” He mimicked. Simon crossed the distance and ran a hand through his hair, fingers catching in knots the entire time. “You called for someone to help you unpack?”

“Yeah.” Clary gestured vaguely at the expanse of boxes blocking her door. “I have . . . a problem.”

Simon laughed, dark eyes catching the light. He smiled. “Well, then let’s get started.”

About an hour later, Clary groaned, flopping down in her newly-made bed, mussing the sheets. Her nonexistent muscles were screaming in pain, but everything had been unpacked. Simon had seated himself on the edge of the desk, looking uncomfortable.

Clary sat up. “What TV show are we binge watching this time?”

“Start with the classics? Vampire Diaries?”

Clary wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. I hate Elena,” she mumbled.

“But you love Katherine,” Simon reminded her cheerfully. “I, myself, am more inclined to like Bonnie.”

“Simon! You have a girlfriend!”

Simon looked wounded. “This was from four years ago! Bonnie will always have a special place in my heart.”

Changing the subject, Clary said, “Well, that’s about everything unpacked. What’s left?”

“All the posters and your clothes. Cause I’m not unpacking your underwear.”

Clary smiled mischievously. “It’s not like you haven’t seen a lot of that. I have to wear earplugs whenever I go to your house to pick something up unexpectedly.”

Color flushed Simon’s cheekbones. He glared at her. “Shut up.”

She laughed delightedly. “You’re not denying it,” she pointed out.

“Oh, shush.” Simon glanced at the clock above her desk. “You want to order Chinese? I’ll start the movie.”

“I swear, Isabelle has gotten you obsessed. Her entire family is literally always eating Chinese.”

“That’s cause she’s a terrible cook.” Simon shivered and leaned closer to her, eyebrows raising conspiringly. “Don’t tell her I said this, but she eats her s’mores with ketchup. It’s disgusting.”

Clary laughed again. “You’ve told me that before. Remember when we all went camping with Julian and Emma? We made s’mores, Isabelle ate hers with ketchup, and Kieran dared Mark to eat his s’more with an acorn?”

“Sadly, yes. From the top? Season One?”

Clary smiled affectionately. “Simon, you know me too well. Duh.”

They were just getting settled in on top of Clary’s bed, both of them under the covers, not caring at his point if they messed up their hard work, when the door flew open. It appeared to have been kicked open, for a leather, four inch heel clad foot followed the crashing door. A halo of glittering, wild dark curls followed, the dark eyes outlined in black gleaming sardonically.

“So am I interrupting something?” The girl asked, voice echoing in the otherwise silent room.

Simon was the first one to regain his composure. He flashed the girl a smile, saying, “I’m Simon. This is Clary. I’m guessing you’re her roommate?”

The girl nodded. “Yeah. I’m Maia. Maia Roberts. Freshman?”

Clary blushed. “Sophomore,” she mumbled, wishing she could sink into the floor.

“Sorry,” Maia said, sounding not very sorry at all. She squinted at her. “So are y’all a couple?”

Simon over-dramatically gasped. “Clary—and me? Dating?” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Nah, we’re just friends. We’re planning on binge-watching the Vampire Diaries. You want to join us?”

Maia looked at the iPad screen, then to Simon; the angle of the beds provided her with a clear image of the screen. “I can see that,” she replied coolly. “I’ll pass. I need to unpack.”

Simon shrugged. “Your loss.”

Clary hadn’t said anything since the embarrassing “freshman” comment. She leaned over to Simon, whispering, “My new roommate’s . . . intimidating.”

“I can hear you,” said Maia from all the way across the room, not even turning to face Clary, her head stuck in the closet.

Pink blossomed high on Clary’s cheeks, making her resemble a strawberry with her peony cheeks and red hair. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Maia said finally after a pause, turning to face her. “A girl’s got to learn to say what’s on her mind.”

Simon shrugged and unpaused the episode. Clary’s mind was still stuck on what Maia had said. Her new roommate was so difficult to understand. Did she hate Clary or did she not?

Her musings were interrupted by a banging on the door. Clary shot Simon a startled look. “Who do you think it is?” She murmured.

Clary cautiously walked over and opened the door. She poked her head out. “Hey— Isabelle! What are you doing here?”

Isabelle’s slender figure was draped in a mixture of gauzy, dark mesh and vermillion silk that clung shockingly to her figure. A river of crimson flared out from Isabelle’s tiny waist, darker mesh floating out randomly in a way that complemented it. 

The ruby necklace had been traded away for a gold necklace dripping rubies and onyx stones. Then Clary noticed Isabelle’s shocked expression that quickly morphed into disbelief. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“I—what? Dressed for what?”

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “The party, of course. The back to school party that Magnus is hosting?”

Clary suddenly felt lightheaded. Parties weren’t really her scene, but Isabelle . . . “I’m sorry,” she said, searching for a plausible excuse. “I completely forgot.”

“Don’t worry.” Isabelle winked. “I have the perfect dress for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know this sucks, but I really just wanted to get this out there. Probably going to go through rewriting in the future when I have time.
> 
> But how’d y’all like it?


End file.
